Spin My Love (My Love #1)(33)

Jim Carlson. The name of my father.

Did I seek him out? Yes, I did. But I didn’t talk to him.

He’s the president of a local motorcycle club. I sat and watched him with his wife, and they looked happy. I didn’t want to ruin that. I don’t know if he has other kids or not, or if he even knows about me, but I let it be. Besides, the last thing I need is to get caught up in the life of an MC world. Giselle might take Parker and run. And I really don’t need to be around any drugs.

“I’m sorry, you know, for what I said to you,” he finally says.

I nod, but it’s a little too late for apologies.

“I still consider myself your father,” he says quietly.

Really? How can he say that after how he treated me?

“I don’t have a father,” I call out as I turn around and walk to my car.

*****

I have a talk on the phone with my sponsor, Timothy. We check in with each other weekly, or more, if I need someone to talk to. After seeing my father, or at least, the man I’d thought was my father, I called him. We talk for half an hour, and he says the things I need to hear. I don’t need to go backwards just because I ran into him. I’m stronger than that. Just because he pushed me away doesn’t mean I’m not worthy.

I hit the gym for two hours then head back home. When I see my personal assistant standing at my front door, I frown, thinking something must be wrong.

“Julia?” I call out as I walk to her. “What are you doing here?”

She lifts her face up and smiles as she sees me. “I was getting bored on leave. I thought we could talk about some of the events you’ve been asked to do.”

I wish I could say I wasn’t a cliché bastard and that I didn’t sleep with my assistant, but I can’t. It was, however, a one-time mistake that happened when I was drunk. That might not be an excuse, but it’s an explanation. I told her after that it wouldn’t be happening again. She’s good at what she does, although she can be pushy if you give her an inch.

Pun not intended.

“You’re on holiday, Julia, we can talk work in a few months’ time,” I say. She’s holding a clipboard in front of her, and looking professional in white and black, her staple black-framed glasses perched on her nose. “I can’t believe you flew all the way here.”

“I live in Sydney, not the other side of the world,” she replies, rolling her eyes.

I sigh. I don’t think she’s getting the point. I pause. “How did you even know where I lived?”

“Tane, I’m the one that booked the real-estate appointments for you.”

Oh, right.

I pull out my keys slowly, really not wanting to open the door. I cannot see this ending well, and I don’t need any more points against me.

“Look Julia, why don’t you go stay at a hotel, enjoy yourself, and we can talk work soon,” I tell her, trying to act casual about it.

“Tane, I’ve missed you,” she says, pouting slightly.

And there it is.

“We’ve spoken about this before …”

“I know,” she replies. “I know you said we aren’t anything to each other, but at least I still got to see you all the time. Now I don’t even get that.”

“I’m your boss,” I say. “It’s unprofessional of you to just show up at my house unannounced when you know damn well I’m taking some time off.”

“I was bored,” she snaps, losing her composure for a second.

How is her boredom my problem? She’s been paid to handle my PR and be my assistant; surely there is something she could do?

A thought occurs to me. “How did you get here?”

“I took a taxi from the airport.”

Of course she did.

It’s only then I see her mini-suitcase behind her. This is so f*cking awkward.

“Let me make a phone call, then I’ll drive you to a hotel,” I tell her as I fumble with my keys. I unlock the front door and let her in.

“Help yourself to whatever you want,” I tell her, gesturing to the fridge.

“Okay,” she replies as I walk into my bedroom, locking the door behind me. I pull out my phone and call Giselle, wanting to tell her what was going on here. Last thing I need is her thinking that I’m doing something behind her back. She doesn’t pick up and I wonder what she and Parker are up to right now. Hopefully they are having more fun than me.

I call again with no answer, so I open my door, ready to get rid of my assistant.

When I hear Giselle’s voice, I cringe.

Fuck.

I wish I could have told her what was going on so she didn’t have to walk in on another woman in my house.

“Who the f*ck are you?” I hear Julia ask in a bitchy tone.

“I’m Tane’s girlfriend. Who are you?” Giselle snaps back.

She’s mine? At least she’s admitting it now.

Julie clucks her tongue. “Oh, honey, you won’t believe how many women think they are Tane’s …”

Like her, maybe?

“Sorry to inform you,” she continues, “but Tane isn’t the settling down type.”

My cue to enter.

Giselle looks up and narrows her pretty eyes on me. Parker is nowhere in sight, thank God.